


Switch It Up

by genmitsu



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Body Swap, Kissing, M/M, Making Love, Making Out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:20:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23948305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/genmitsu/pseuds/genmitsu
Summary: Jim Gordon wakes up in Oswald's bedroom. But it's not what you'd usually think.For Gobblepot Spring 2020---What had happened yesterday, and why is he here? Jim rakes his memory - he’s had a long day, as usual, he went to Oswald’s for some info, and he stayed there for a drink, or two, or three… Oswald didn’t insist on his company and he was busy with something in the corner, some talks - Jim couldn’t help noticing that, after all, hewasa cop. And his gaze kept falling on Oswald time and again, following him, and at one moment their eyes met…
Relationships: Oswald Cobblepot/Jim Gordon
Comments: 20
Kudos: 45
Collections: Gobblepot Spring 2020





	Switch It Up

Jim wakes up on his own, not from the alarm clock buzzing, and at first he’s disoriented. It’s too bright in his room. The bed is too comfortable, moreover, it’s too big. He blinks, looking around - nothing looks familiar. And if he’s picked someone up yesterday, and so successfully as to stay the night… he doesn’t remember that, and there’s no one there beside him.

He turns on his back, relishing the comfort. The sheets are so smooth and soft, they’re silk, maybe? Jim stretches out and feels the bed. It’s cold, so if there was anyone with him, they’ve already left, and the bed looks like he’s been sleeping alone in it anyway. What a waste.

But what had happened yesterday, and why is he here? Jim rakes his memory - he’s had a long day, as usual, he went to Oswald’s for some info, and he stayed there for a drink, or two, or three… Oswald didn’t insist on his company and he was busy with something in the corner, some talks - Jim couldn’t help noticing that, after all, he _was_ a cop. And his gaze kept falling on Oswald time and again, following him, and at one moment their eyes met…

Huh.

A luxurious bed. The colours of this bedroom, the décor of it, subtle, but evoking the image nonetheless, unmistakably…

He’s in Oswald’s bedroom.

He, Jim. Is, now. In Oswald’s. Bedroom. Moreover, he’s in his bed.

Did they?..

But why can’t he remember anything about it? He wouldn’t have forgotten that, oh no. Damn, damn, damn! Did he do well? Or maybe it was so bad that he couldn’t perform? And that is why he’s here alone now?

Jim gets up from the bed abruptly and loses his balance right away, falling back. Something’s wrong with his leg, his knee hurts, and his ankle too - did he sprain them or something? What the hell were they doing here anyway?! Jim looks down at his legs to figure out what is wrong.

‘Wrong’ doesn’t even begin to describe it.

For example, his legs. These are not his legs. They’re pale, thin, almost hairless. Narrow feet. Small elegant toes. A web of scars on his right knee. Jim has never seen these legs before, so why is he looking at them as if they’re his own?

The hands also don’t look like his hands, but he knows them well. He’s been staring at these fingers for far too long - the way they cradled a wine glass, or held an umbrella, or tightened over a gun. These are Oswald’s hands.

…

So, if these are Oswald’s hands, and down there are Oswald’s legs, then, the thing between them has to be Oswald’s too, right? And he’s naked, he’s been sleeping naked, and Jim sleeps like that only when he has sex with someone… Oswald does, too? Or does he always sleep naked?

Jim feels heat engulf him and his cock begins to stiffen, but, is it his? Jim looks down. No, not his. Not his at all, but a very handsome cock, smooth, nice girth and everything…

Jim averts his eyes quickly. He has to distract himself somehow, because if this is what he thinks it is, then getting aroused will certainly not help - on the contrary, it would complicate everything. The thought of satisfying himself is very tempting now, though, piquant even - but that’s too much.

Jim makes another attempt at getting up, more careful now with the damaged leg. Does Oswald always feel this level of discomfort? He never lets that show. Jim makes a few uncertain steps, and then the body remembers the way it has to move as if on its own, and it’s soothing and deeply disturbing at the same time.

Where’s the damn bathroom anyway? The first door Jim opens turns out to be the walk-in closet, full of neatly pressed suits, shirts, his shoes all lined up, and it’s all very interesting, but Jim needs the bathroom more.

When he manages to find it, Jim tries very, very hard not to think about what he’s doing and what he’s touching, trying to be distant and mechanical about the process. After all, what difference does it make what you’re touching when your bladder demands your attention so absolutely? But still, Jim feels relieved not only in the physiological sense, when he’s done.

He takes care to wash his hands thoroughly, bidding for time. Who’d have thought it would take so much courage to just look in the mirror? Jim takes a deep breath, and another one - raises his head.

He was waiting for it, but it still shocks him. He’s never seen Oswald so uneasy, so frightened, the way his reflection shows. He’s never seen Oswald like _that._ And he’s never seen him naked either, and looking at his body now doesn’t feel right - Oswald didn’t consent to that, after all, and maybe he wouldn’t object to Jim looking at him, maybe he’d even enjoy it, but - Jim is sure of this - Oswald would prefer it to be on his terms and when he was present. In the flesh.

But what had happened anyway? Yeah, it’s Gotham, and Jim is used to a lot of strange shit happening all the time, but shouldn’t there be at least some inkling of an explanation? There has to be a reason, at least. It has to do with what was happening at the club last night, so Jim has to find that out, and for that he has to get dressed.

Jim gets a little overwhelmed by all the choices the closet offers him, so he pulls on the first things he finds. Oswald is such a dandy that even simple black trousers and white shirt look like a formal suit on him, and Jim can’t help staring at the mirror. He gets distracted by the vibrations of the phone back in the bedroom.

He looks at the tiny screen. It’s his number calling, Jim’s own. He picks up the phone, feeling chills running down his spine.

“Jim?” calls his own anxious voice.

***

The alley behind the club, which both of them know well. Jim stands there, in the shadows, tugging the coat collar higher - in part to disguise himself better, in part because he’s cold. Oswald, as it turns out, gets cold easily and quickly. Funny thing, considering his Antarctic nickname.

People pass by without noticing him. It starts drizzling. Jim frowns. What the hell is Oswald doing, and in another’s body!

What could he do, once he realized whose body he was in? In whose house? Oswald is too perceptive and sharp to come out of this situation without new tools for leverage… Jim irrationally tries to remember when was the last time he tidied up his flat.

A new figure shows up in the alley. He… he looks like that, really? Like…

“Jim?” Oswald calls him quietly. It’s Jim’s own voice, but the sound of it - wariness and hope intertwined - that has to be Oswald. He always thinks too well of Jim.

Too bad.

Something boils inside familiarly, something he doesn’t want to give a name to, and Jim grabs Oswald by the lapels and pushes him into the wall.

“What is the meaning of this?!” he growls, and momentarily sees himself as if he was back in his own body, sees Oswald angrily pressing him to this wall, but it passes quicker than Jim can process it.

“J-Jim…” it’s so strange to hear your own voice but with all the wrong inflections. “Not… not so loud, please.”

Jim gives him one more shake for good measure before stepping back and frowning again.

“What the hell, Oswald? Did you do this?”

“No, I… I was shaken up myself, to put it mildly,” Oswald says, straightening his coat up. A familiar movement, but performed with Jim’s hands. “But I do know where to go looking for the culprit.”

***

It’s Gotham, and in Gotham trouble tends to come either from Arkham or from Indian Hill, even if it doesn’t seem to be the case on the first glance. It usually originates from these places and their mad experiments. This case is not an exception.

Another ‘scientist’, another experiment. Something added to the booze. Oswald scowls and mumbles something like ‘fucking kill him’, which Jim decides to ignore, for now. The solution to the problem turns out to be an unexpected one - he’s not sure if it’s any solution at all.

“So, just ‘stick close and hope for it to pass’?” Oswald growls, shaking the scientist by the collar. “Does it look like a solution to you?”

Jim can’t help noticing how convincing Oswald looks in Jim’s skin, and how he seems to enjoy his good physical shape. Jim himself is still freezing, still wobbling when he walks, and he couldn’t physically intimidate anyone right now.

“I haven’t found the cure!” the scientist bleats. “The mice experiments showed that with time the displacement effect fades away!”

“ _Mice,_ ” Oswald snarls. “How quickly?”

“A couple… a couple weeks…”

“Do you fancy becoming a mouse for a couple of weeks?” Oswald shakes him again, making his teeth rattle. “I promise you’ll get fed.”

Jim grins, and the scientist notices that, paling even more.

“No, please! I beg of you! Give me a chance! I’ll try to find the cure, I promise!”

He’s so pathetic and so fear-stricken he wouldn’t be able to think about anything, even the cure, any time soon, but it’s the only lead that they have. They stuff him in the trunk of the car and sit on it.

Oswald sighs.

“I’m sorry, Jim… I didn’t think my enemies would make trouble for you as well.”

It’s so fucking strange watching your own face. It’s not a reflection in the mirror, it’s different, and Jim feels uneasy looking at it and trying to figure out Oswald’s emotions. And he’s also taller than Oswald, and looking up at him hurts his neck. But Oswald has always looked at him…

How it would’ve turned out, if it was someone else in Oswald’s body now, and not Jim? What if he came to him, and met someone strange and unfamiliar, someone who wished Oswald harm? What would they have gotten away with? Jim suddenly trembles at the thought.

“Jim, are you unwell?”

“Are you always this cold?” Jim snaps back half-heartedly.

“Mostly,” Oswald smiles with Jim’s lips. “And you’re much warmer. So…”

He takes off his coat and puts it over Jim’s shoulders. Jim’s coat. Oswald’s shoulders. Jim’s head begins to ache.

For a moment, when Oswald touches him, Jim feels as if he’s back in his own body.

He catches Oswald by his arm.

“Do you feel that?” he asks. It’s like seeing double.

“Seems like that bastard wasn’t lying,” Oswald replies softly.

***

Through the thick fabric of the coat it’s just a hint, could be easily dismissed; through much thinner shirt it’s more, it’s almost there, but the best is skin to skin contact, and the more of it there is, the stronger the connection. Jim holds Oswald by the hand and he sees double, but when they lace the fingers of both their hands together, they see each other the way they usually do.

“How strange,” Oswald says, barely audible, and it’s Oswald’s voice, Oswald’s lips saying the words, but Jim feels his mouth move in sync. “As if it’s me, and not me.”

“Closer,” Jim says, and pulls him flush without waiting for response. A surprised intake of breath, shared by them both, and the pulse starts rushing - for them both.

“Closer,” Oswald whispers, pressing his cheek to Jim’s. This contact feels right - Jim feels that touch with his own body, but the moment they stir and break the connection, Jim is back in Oswald’s body again, looking upwards at his own face.

“We… we have to figure out how this works,” he says, clearing his throat, and Oswald nods. “Maybe we’ll be able to get back to normal faster than in a few weeks.”

They get the scientist back to Oswald’s club and he gets stuffed into some cellar, guarded by Oswald’s goons, and it feels strange and funny to command them, seeing how readily they obey. Jim’s own subordinates are different, and he’s a little, just a tiny bit, but he has to admit it’s there - he’s a little bit jealous.

He gets distracted soon enough.

***

They’re back in the bedroom, having both discarded their coats and rolled their shirtsleeves up. They sit on the bed, and Oswald is pressing close to Jim, winding his bare arms around Jim’s neck so Jim could see with his own eyes, speak with his own mouth. Jim phones Harvey and says he’s got a terrible cold, won’t be able to show up for work for some time. Harvey just hums at that but he tells Jim to get well soon anyway, and Jim sighs with relief, ending the call.

“You’re such an awkward liar, Jim,” Oswald smiles, still embracing him. “That must be the only thing you’re not good at.”

“And you’re such a flatterer,” Jim grumbles, trying to ignore the comforting warmth of his hands. “I just don’t know what you plan to achieve by buttering me up.”

“Oh no,” Oswald begins to pull away. “Not a word of flattery there.”

“And you also lie… so well…” Jim says, the recognition of their contact breaking but their sight still being normal catching up with him, but then he blinks and ends up looking at his own face again. It’s so tiresome.

“Oh look, Jim… It turns out, the longer the contact, the longer we stay where we should be,” Oswald falters, but reaches out to Jim again, touching his cheek. “We have to… experiment…”

This touch is enough for Jim to look at Oswald again, with his own eyes. Oswald is so flustered and flushed, a little shy, but this tension, this arousal is shared by them both now, resonating within.

Who else Jim could’ve trusted this way, to open up like this, whose hands would he have welcomed around his neck? Whom else he would have trusted with himself, no less?

The list of names is startlingly short.

“C’mere,” he takes Oswald by the waist and pulls him closer. “Experiment, you say?..”

Oswald tilts his head to the side and smiles, suddenly bashful, but his eyes betray such hope Jim finds himself breathless.

“Yes,” Oswald whispers, leaning towards him, and Jim can’t help leaning forward to meet his lips.

The kiss, both with his own lips and not his, gentle and rough, searching and caressing. Hands, so hot, and pressing them both closer. Fingers lacing through hair. A sigh, shared by both. A pulse, shared by both. A moan.

Without breaking the kiss, Jim unbuttons Oswald’s shirt, sliding his palms under the fabric to touch him more, caress this soft skin more, feeling how it warms up. Oswald gets cold easily, but warming him up is just as easy, Jim chuckles.

He gets on top of Oswald, experiencing his delight, his arousal with the same relentless intensity as his own. They don’t have any secrets from each other, not now, not with them shifting between their bodies so often, feeling double.

“More…” Oswald gasps, pulling at Jim’s clothes. “Jim, more…”

Jim kisses him again, deeper now and with more intent, and his movements become rougher. Their hands meet at the fly and, after a pause, unzip both of them.

“Oh…” Oswald says, putting his hand over Jim’s cock, and he sounds impressed, and this makes Jim grin smugly.

“Didn’t you get a good look at it in the morning?” Jim pushes himself up a little to look into Oswald’s eyes. He really, really has to know what Oswald thinks about _that_ part of him.

“It would’ve been… very improper of me,” Oswald blushes. “But now, if you’re not averse…”

“I hope you can notice how far away from ‘averse’ I am,” Jim presses into Oswald’s hand more, and it’s hot and sure despite his words of propriety, and it only serves to arouse him more. “Knock yourself out.”

Oswald smiles at him and pulls his trousers and underwear down. He wraps his hand around Jim’s cock, gives it a squeeze, strokes it up and down its length as if relishing the touch. Jim can’t refrain from moaning and it seems to encourage Oswald - he begins moving his hand faster now, his touch more firm. Jim bites his lip. He really wants to come, but not like this. Not like this.

“Oswald…” he moans, kissing him all over again, hungrily. “Want you… want inside of you-- can I? Do you have anything?..”

“God, Jim!..” Oswald arches under him, just as hungry for his touch, trying to wrap himself around Jim in turn. “Yes. Yes.”

Reaching for the nightstand is an ordeal, especially when neither of them wants to pull away. They somehow get the lube and the condoms out. Manage to get undressed completely, throwing their clothes onto the floor. Oswald lies before him, Jim’s palms on his slim hips, skin to skin, and Jim rakes his eyes over him - he can, now, he needs it now, and Oswald does too - he smiles at Jim so alluringly, and it’s equally important to the both of them.

“You drive me crazy,” Jim says, his voice low and rumbly. “Always.”

Instead of answering, Oswald just pulls him closer, kissing Jim deeply and passionately. He’s so hot and pliant in Jim’s arms, almost melting against him, and his moans drive Jim mad even before he puts his cock inside.

They settle on a rhythm right away, a quick, rough tattoo. Oswald wraps his legs around Jim, his mouth opening hungrily. Jim nips his lip, moves lower, peppering his neck with kisses. His palms have a firm hold on Oswald’s hips, pulling him closer with each friction. Everything Jim could think of during his lonely nights, any of his fantasies, anything he could expect from sex - it all pales in comparison with how Oswald really is, now, for him alone.

They lie, panting heavily, still tightly wrapped around each other. Their hungry and greedy passion slowly makes way for gentleness. Oswald buries his face into the crook of Jim’s neck and mumbles something - it tickles - and Jim can’t make it out but it doesn’t matter.

“Love you too,” he says, kissing Oswald’s temple.

***

It took less than a couple of weeks for them in the end.

They just never wanted to stop ‘the experiments’.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, you made it! Thank you!  
> Hopefully you liked it.  
> I would really appreciate your feedback, either here or on [Tumblr](https://lalaurelia.tumblr.com/) :)  
> 💙 💜


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